Deck His Halls
by Jazzi-chan
Summary: “You’re crazy. Lily has a deep and undying love for me which she is bound to desire to consummate before my seventeenth birthday . . . She better be. You don't know what it's like to be alone!” [ J a m e s & L i l y ]
1. Part One: Not All Thorns Have Roses

"But he that dares not grasp the thorn

Should never crave the rose"

--Anne Bronte

**Part One: Not All Thorns Have Roses**

It was not my broomstick. It was not my window. It was not my pillow. It was not my rose. It was not my handwriting. They were not my words. But those stolen treasures, used to gain entry and lay treasure like the head of my love, they contained all of my heart.

_Dearest Flower,_

_A rose, by any other name, would still be a rose. I cast it away. I give it to you as the eternal symbol of love. There is little else I can give you. You, already, are the true keeper of my heart. I should give you everything that I own if you would take it. Given a vault of gold, I would sniffle. Offer me the vela and I will decline. If present with a garden full of roses I would turn away. It is not daisies, nor pansies, nor lavender that I crave. Give me but a single Lily and my heart is satisfied._


	2. Chapter One

**Deck His Halls**

**Part One – Not All Roses Have Thorns**

**Chapter One**

**Disclaimer: **Lily, the brown-nosed student, and James in all of his glory, to Sirius the extra-charming, and Peter who is . . . SOMETHING THAT RHYMES WITH GLORY. Well, this is what I get for trying to re-work Christmas carols. I'll try again next year. Here's hoping I find all of J. K. Rowling's intellectual property in my stocking on Christmas morning!

**Author's Note: **This is the first chapter of a three-part story. Each part will have a vague, present-tense prelude (what you read before this), followed by a few chapters. I dreamt this up as a one-shot, though with the ending it has it simply can't stand alone. In short, yes, I am finally doing a seasonal fiction, and, yes, it's going to have multiple chapters. I don't know how many yet, but I have a basic idea of where I want it to go. That's a start, right? As always, make reviews, not war.

It lay on her pillow, spotlighted by the moon. Blood-colored petals contrasted brilliantly with the snow white of the pillow, highlighted by the aged color of a scrap of parchment. The great flower, weighted down by its lofty symbolism, dwarfed that unassuming note so that when it was lifted by its emerald stem the small explanation fluttered to the floor unnoticed.

"A rose!" Polly Akin—soon to be Patil—exclaimed breathlessly.

"A rose!" Ariel Thompson—soon to be Lovegood—arched an eyebrow.

"A _rose_?" Lily Evans—never to be Potter—sneered.

"Again?! Oh, that dratted boy. I've . . ." Jasmine Brown—soon to be married to anyone who would take her—paused, frowning. "Polly, I don't see any—"

"Not _your_ rose, you fat-headed git," Ariel snapped, because Lily was too busy twirling the flower between her fingers. "Someone's left a rose on Lily's pillow."

"Don't be stupid," Jasmine waved a hand in the air. "Why would anyone want to go and do a thing like that for? . . . Say, Lily, where'd you get the flower?"

Polly giggled, Ariel groaned, and Lily exploded. "Potter . . ." she growled between her teeth. "Sneaking around in my room, touching my things, leaving a bloody . . . A bloody rose!"

"If you don't want it . . ." Jasmine offered.

Lily wasn't listening. "Why, I should—As though a flower could make me—Sneaking into the girl's dorm—He didn't even bother to remove the—Bloody hell!" she dropped the flower to the floor, stepped on it violently, and shoved her thumb into her mouth. "_Reducto!_" The rose was reduced to a pile of ash on the floor.

"Well _I _thought it was sweet," Polly sniffed, edging slightly from the enraged Lily. For a flower, she could be quite scary.

The parchment, buried under the rose's ashes, caught fire. Ariel stamped it out, crouching to read what she could, but only a single word was legible between the burnt corners. "Oy, Ethelred the Ever-Ready," she called. Lily paused in her ranting to glare at her best friend. "C'mere."

The red-head sighed and fell to her knees beside the other girl. "What?" she demanded moodily.

"Look at this." Lily parted the great curtain of straggly blonde hair that hung around Ariel and peered at the parchment. "Was this—Why that . . . That presumptuous toe rag!" Before Ariel could react, Lily had ripped the single word from between her fingers and stormed out of the dormitory. She could hear her footsteps echoing in the hall and the loud yelp from the boy's dormitory as their door was slammed open with a sound like a shot.

"Evening, Evans," Sirius Black looked up from his hand of cards with a handsomely surprised smile.

"Evans!" Peter Pettigrew greeted her warmly.

"Can we help you, Lily?" Remus Lupin's gray eyes glittered with amusement.

"Wath's goin' on?" James Potter emerged from the bathroom, a fluffy white towel wrapped around his waist, a blue plastic toothbrush in his mouth. He peered at the door beneath the wet mess of raven hair that hung in his eyes, before covering Peter—who sat nearest him—in toothpaste with the announcement, "I canth thee a bi' without me glatheth. Whoth athe door, Thirius?"

"Evans!" Peter repeated, looking about to wet himself for excitement.

"No, thnot. Donth thease me, Pethe," James scowled in the general direction of Sirius. "Whoth athe door?"

Lily used every ounce of her weight to stomp across the room towards the poor, blind boy. "POTTER, I DEMAND TO KNOW—"

"Oh, tho it ith you, Evanth," James grinned and cleared his mouth with a flick of his wand (before he tucked it back into the side of his towel, Lily couldn't help but notice). "How lovely. To what do we owe the honor?"

"Join us in a game of strip poker?" Sirius suggested cheerfully.

"'S not quite so fun playing without any birds," Remus agreed.

"POTTER!" Lily stamped forcefully.

"Already screaming his name," Sirius noted.

"Get a room," Remus suggested.

There was a loud 'thump' as Peter hit the floor.

"My lady love?" James returned. His words were lost in the shrieking of Wormtail's giggles.

"WHAT?" Lily demanded.

"HUH?" James asked. Though they stood only a foot apart, the wondrous dividing power of Wormtail Giggles made it impossible to hear anything at all, and without his glasses he couldn't even attempt lip-reading.

"WHAT?" With a soft, resigned sigh that nobody heard, James took what he hoped was Lily's wrist, dragged her over to his bunk, and closed the bedclothes around them. A wave of his wand left them in silence.

"Now," he said, focusing his blurry sight on the vague outline of Lily in the dark. "What were you saying, flower goddess?"

"I demand to know the meaning of this." She thrust the burnt parchment underneath his nose. He sniffed.

"Rubbish?"

"It's a _note_."

"Is it?"

"_Yes,_ and _you_ put it on my pillow."

"Did I?"

"With a rose!"

"How sublime! When did I become such the romantic?"

"Potter . . ."

"Evans . . ."

"Why would you do a thing like this?"

"Why don't you tell me, Little-Miss-Know-It-All?"

"Because you thought it would make me fall for you, and then you could parade me all around the school just so that people could see that you could do it."

James snorted. Lily growled. "Indeed?" he sounded amused.

"Indeed, Potter."

"And what, pray tell, was in said note?"

"Well . . ." Lily drew the parchment back to herself and peered at it through the gray light, as though expecting to see some meaning that had note already been revealed. "I don't . . . Exactly know."

"Come again?"

"I don't know, okay?! I burned the parchment, and the only word that's left is—"

"Yes?"

"Well, it's . . ."

"Yes?"

"It's 'love,' okay?!"

"You see? I knew you'd come around some day! Wait 'til I tell Sirius!" James reached blindly for the love of his life but got only a sharp smack on the head.

"Not between us! In the letter!"

"There's love in the letter?"

"Yes, that's the word."

"What word?"

"Love."

"Yes?"

"Not you, the word."

"What word?"

"Potter . . ." Lily growled, reaching to draw back the curtains.

"Okay, okay," James said, pushing her hand back. It was a very rare miracle that brought Lily into such close quarters, and in his bed, too! "So what do you want from me?"

She squinted at him distrustfully. "I want to know the meaning of this."

His expensive feather pillows sighed as he leaned back against them, his arms folded behind his head. "Obviously, someone is trying to convey their love for you."

"Someone?"

"Or something," James wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Hopefully, someone."

"But . . . not . . . you." For once, Lily seemed slow to grasp the point.

"Nope, not me," he swung his feet over the edge of the bed and pushed back the curtains. Peter had stopped laughing and the three boys had gone back to their cards. "Wish I'd thought of it, though. It hasn't worked, has it?"

"Of course not! Do you honestly think—" she was silenced by the look of absolute desperation, quickly replaced by one of quiet hope, and then masked by his usual self-confident smirk.

"Goodnight, Evans." Before she could protest he was taking her arm, leading her over to the doorway. "If you do happen to find your secret admirer, drop me an owl. I have a thing or two I'd like to discuss with him." His tall figure was looming over her, his Quidditch-broadened shoulders blocking her sight of the room. She walked backwards into the hallway.

"Potter . . ."

"Sleep well." The door was closed in her face, the wood brushing the tip of her freckled nose. She heard the lock click into place.

In a daze, Lily floated back to her dormitory. Three of her dorm mates were gossiping on Polly's bed. Ariel was asleep, the chipping varnish of her nails lightly brushing the carpet, her mouth hanging slightly open. "Sleep well," Lily murmured to her, climbing into bed without undressing.


	3. Chapter Two

**Deck His Halls**

**Part One – Not All Roses Have Thorns**

**Chapter Two**

**Disclaimer: **Today is Sunday, December 3, 2006, and as of yet I have absolutely no sign that my dear, sweet Mommy plans on getting me anything but socks in my stocking. However, nothing is hopeless. We must hope for everything. (Though I'd settle for only James: Lily's a prude.)

**Author's Note:** It occurred to me earlier that this story isn't very Christmas-y and some of my readers may doubt my summary. Currently, the Land of Hogwarts is plowing through November. December will start with Part Two. I've gotten things pretty well worked out in my mind. This chapter won't be as long as the others, I'm sorry. Chapter Three will be the end of Part One.

**Thank You:** While I'm delaying what is sure to be an under-par chapter, I'm going to go ahead and thank Fadeaway Windwaker for my most specific review. I'm glad you like my James. Most people do, though I'm not exactly an expert at prying into the male psyche. Elizabethknowsall, thanks so much for the review and please keep up with your Lily/James story. CluelessWanderer, you're a doll. Is this soon enough for you?

Emerald eyes opened to a crimson surprise. Resting comfortably, as though it belonged there, upon the ivory pillow next to her cheek was a bold, red rose. Lily sat up, swung her bare feet onto the cold wooden floor, and pulled her messy curls up into a tight ponytail.

"Ariel," she said, lifting the flower between two fingers. The girl in the next bed let out a loud snore. "Ariel!" Her open mouth closed, she shifted, and began to snore again. "ARIEL!" At last, one sleepy blue eye opened upon the world.

"Mmhmph?"

"There's another one."

Ariel seemed to gain some interest. She propped her elbow up on her pillow and rested her head heavily on her hand. Her pale lips parted and let out a fascinated yawn. "Is there a note?"

For the first time, Lily looked back down at her pillow. It was empty. She scanned the flower, as though expecting to find something written along the slender stem. At last her eyes fell upon a small, white scrap of parchment half-way concealed beneath her freckled foot. She picked it up and held it close. "_For my Lily amongst roses_," she read.

Ariel snorted, "Aren't roses supposed to be _better_ than lilies?" Her friend furrowed her brow as she stared at the note, her lips silently re-forming the words. _For my Lily amongst roses . . ._ Across the room, Jasmine—her face covered in a slimy green potion, eyes protected by a silky mask—murmured in her sleep.

"Maybe it's about color," Lily said thoughtfully. "Lilies are white and roses are red."

"So he's racist, now?" Ariel didn't seem impressed. She slumped out of bed and slouched over to her trunk. Her uniform, clean and pressed and folded neatly, was wrinkled by the time she got it on. "A racist stalker who isn't afraid to break-and-enter while you're in your bed. Who knows? He could be watching us now . . ."

Lily's uniform was perfectly straight, sharp, and strict. She smoothed a flowery-scented potion in her hands, raked her fingers through her hair, and coaxed it up into a tight, McGonagall-esque bun. "I don't think he's a stalker . . ."

"Going soft on me, Lil? And here I thought I could depend on you."

They continued to argue all the way down to the great hall. Lily took her usual place as prefect at the end of the table, and Ariel sat beside her. "You're the one getting married before you even graduate."

The blond pouted, "I'll be seventeen this summer! I'm of age! What do you care what I do?"

"I don't."

Ariel laughed, nudging Lily in the ribs. "They were right about you in third year, weren't they? You're a lesbian, and you're lusting after me."

"Shove it, Ari."

"Aw, admit it, Lils. I think it's sweet. I always wondered what it'd be like to be with a bird."

"Why don't you try being with a bloke, first?"

"Li-ly, it's okay. Don't be ashamed. I accept you."

"Ariel . . ."

"Aw, you're turning red! Admit it! You're in love with me!"

Everyone in the Great Hall at that ungodly hour in the morning had turned to stare. Lily, enraged at this undermining of her authority, had turned a shade to match her hair. The hand that gripped her fork was trembling. "Ariel Thompson, Merlin help me I will—Bloody hell!"

A great, tawny owl swooped through the window and into the Great Hall, dropping a plump rose directly into the golden bowl before Lily, splattering her dignified uniform with porridge. She shook her hands, her mouth open in awe as Ariel, sniggering, lifted a napkin to dap at Lily's cheeks. "Stalker," she announced in a cheerful sing-song voice. "Lily's got a stalker!"

Recovering herself, Lily dug through the spoiled porridge for a note, but the heat and moisture had made the ink run. It was completely illegible. "I'm beginning to think someone out there really, really hates me," she muttered through gritted teeth.

The obnoxious delivery of roses and notes that _always_ seemed a way to become unreadable continued through Herbology, Ancient Runes, and a double lesson of Potions. By the time Lily took her seat between Ariel and Polly at lunch, she was so annoyed that her always-perfect hair was frayed and sticking at odd angles out of her bun.

"Lily flower—"

"Save it, Potter."

"Alright, but I think you ought to know—"

"I _don't_ want to hear it!"

Jasmine's over-obviously swaying hips paused behind the irritated sixteen-year-old. Her perfectly manicured nails plucked a piece of porridge out of Lily's hair, her practiced, fluttery giggle danced over the Gryffindor table, and she continued on her way to sit amidst the Quidditch team.

"Never mind," James returned to his pot pie as Lily glared into her blood pudding. "Say, did you manage to figure out . . ."

"No," Ariel replied hastily, because Lily looked as though she were going to explode. One could almost see steam rising from her ears; hear the whistling of her irritation.

"Well, if you do . . ."

"I'll tell you where I burry his body," Lily promised, just as the same tawny owl from breakfast swooped through the Hall and dropped a flower directly into her pudding. Her pale hands shot forward and grasped the note just before the broth could soak through it.

"Well," Ariel said, reading over her shoulder. James rose out of his seat and bent over the table with interest. "He's creative, isn't he?"

"What's it say?" Polly, who had been silent since Lily sat down, looked up.

"Same thing as this morning: _To my Lily amongst roses._"

"Racist," Ariel announced.

"Lame," James frowned.

"Roses are the symbol of love," Lily said slowly. "Maybe he means he . . . loves all the other girls and not me?"

Polly snatched the note out of her hand. "Honestly, Lily, I thought you were supposed to be smart." The three of them were silent. "It's a _compliment._ He means you're different."

"Oh."

Ariel and Lily rose in uniform, slung their bags over their shoulders, and started for Care of Magical Creatures, leaving James looking thoroughly worried. "Sirius?" The handsome boy looked up from a conversation with Remus. "We have got to do something."

Remus's eyes glittered, Sirius rubbed his hands together, and Peter squeaked with excitement. "What did you have in mind?"

**Author's Note:** I severely dislike author's notes at the end of a chapter, but I had to do it. This isn't exactly how I meant to end this chapter, but I didn't want it to drag on, either. I have a feeling Chapter Three is going to be the most eventful so far. Excited yet? Good, now go review.


	4. Chapter Three

**Deck His Halls**

**Part One – Not All Thorns Have Roses**

**Chapter Three**

**Disclaimer:** It's still December 3. I still haven't found James wrapped in paper in my attic. This sucks.

**Author's Note:** Not a whole lot to say here. It's really hot in my room right now. Thanks to Isolde Eris, RonandMione4Ever, and Renai-chan for reviewing. sniff I love you guys!

**Dedication:** I'm dedicating this chapter to 'Lana (Renai-chan). She's pretty much the coolest Lily/James shipper out there. In fact, her helpful suggestions ("Lily: -looks at James- James: -looks at Lily- Lily: You thinking what I'm thinking? James: Oh yeah. Lily and James: -snog like crazy-") have provided much insight as to the coming chapters.

"My life," announced James Potter as he fell backwards onto his bed, "is over."

"James, really . . ."

"Shove it, Moony!" Sirius Black intervened, seating himself regally on James's stomach. "You obviously don't care for Prongs at all. Look at him. His heart is breaking. He is loosing the love of his life to a flowery-tongued ne'er do well and you don't even stop that . . . That . . . What is it you call that again?"

Remus Lupin lifted his tired gray eyes from his essay. "Homework?"

Sirius hissed in disgust. "Shut your nasty little face!" he growled, clapping his hands over his ears. "Why, if James was feeling any better, he'd hex you into oblivion. You ought to give yourself a detention. Shame on you, Moony! What would ever possess you to say such nasty words in the presence of innocent, untainted sixth—FUCK!"

James, no longer amused by the severe impediment on his ability to breathe, pushed Sirius onto the floor. The handsome teenager pouted, rubbing his injured rear. "Really, Prongs. What's gotten into you?"

"I believe," Remus dipped his quill in a pot of black ink and lowered it to the parchment, "it's something about a flowery-tongued ne'er do well asking Lily on a date."

"What?!" Sirius demanded.

"He asked her on a _date_?" James demanded. "I thought the coward was too much of a . . . I should have planned for this . . . Padfoot?"

"Yessir?"

"Ready the artillery!"

"Yes sir!"

"Moony?"

"James?"

"Prepare the troops."

"Wormtail?" The room was silent. "Wormtail?" James paused, but once again got no response. He threw a heavy-looking something-or-another at the bed where Peter usually slept, but to no avail. "Anyone seen Wormtail?"

Sirius looked up from the stash of dungbombs hidden beneath his bed. "I think I saw him with that one chick."

"What one chick?" James demanded. Remus looked up with interest.

"You know: The one with the face."

"But I though she was seeing the bloke with the nose."

"Nah. That was her sister. She was seeing the bloke with the eyebrows but they broke it off because of that bird with the hair."

"Oh really?"

"What are you two talking about?" Remus demanded, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand.

"You know," said Sirius. "That chick with the face."

"Oh, yes," Remus rolled his eyes up at the ceiling. "How could I be so stupid?"

"Don't worry, Moony."

"Happens to Pete all the time," James assured him. "Now, ready men? We have a party to crash, a baby to boom, a—"

"James?"

"Yes?"

"You don't actually plan on hurting anyone . . ." Remus sounded worried. "Do you?"

"Of course he does!" Sirius piped in, as though it should have been obvious.

"Now, what time did you say this . . . date . . . thingy was?" James looked expectantly at Remus, who shrugged.

"The note said, '_Sparks fly when roses and Lilies collide. Let's meet tonight where Professor Robinson died._'"

"Cheery bloke. I wonder how long it took him to think that one up?"

James began to pace, "I'll bet this is what he's been planning all alone. Yes, yes." He rubbed his hands together. "Get her to sneak out of the castle at midnight . . . And then call a teacher . . . And get her expelled!"

"Um . . . James?" Remus began tentatively. "I don't think he's trying to . . ."

"Or worse! That little son of a—I should have seen it—"

"Prongsie?" Sirius started.

"Yes, yes, of course! When she least expects it, he's going to . . ."

"Cut her hair?" Remus suggested.

"Rape her?" Sirius offered.

". . . Ask her to be his girlfriend!"

"Oh no!" Sirius squealed in horror. "Not that! Anything but that! The poor bloke! He's never getting any!"

James paused in his pacing to stare at his best friend. "Who?"

"You."

"You're crazy. Lily has a deep and undying love for me which she is bound to desire to consummate before my seventeenth birthday."

"You're sure?"

"She'd better. You don't know what it's like to be alone!"

Sirius snorted and shook his head. "Look, mate," he said, sitting up. "Let's take this one step at a time. Let's just get her to date you by, say, Christmas?"

"That's a month away!" Remus objected.

"This sounds like a ("Oh, no." Remus attempted to hide in the corner of his bed.) bet," James grinned. "Ten galleons?"

"Twenty," Sirius said.

"Alright, Remmy?" James looked where his friend sat, very pale, staring at him with wide, gray eyes. He was going to go hungry for a month. Swallowing hard, he nodded. "There's a sport. C'mon, boys. We've got a bridge to burn." He prowled towards the door.

"Er, what?" Sirius tilted his head slightly.

"'I dunno. Sounded cool, didn't it?"

The three boys marched valiantly down the stairs and out the portrait hole, just in time to miss the shrieks of agony coming from the girls' dormitory.

"OW, GOD, POLLY, THAT _IS_ STILL ATTACHED!" Lily Evans clapped her hands to her head in an attempt to save her poor hair from Polly Akin's wrenching hands. In the window, the moon began to slip down towards the horizon, drenching the room in darkness. Ariel Thompson, Lily's supposed best friend, sniggered from a safe distance.

"Hold on, hold on." Polly gave one final jerk of a rubber band and spun Lily around to face the mirror. The red head was silenced. Her makeup was done so that her face was a smooth, milky white (except for the stubbornly dark freckles across her nose) and her emerald eyes seemed to shine brightly from the tears of pain. A single perfect, scarlet curl hung down her cheek, as though it had escaped from a bun Polly had managed to make much more elegant than anything Lily had ever done. "Al just _loves_ it when I wear my hair up like this."

"Bloody hell . . ." Lily touched her bare collar bone—Polly had made some "adjustments" to her robes—as though she couldn't believe it was really her reflection. "Polly . . ."

"Just make me a bride's maid at the wedding!" she chimed, pushing Lily towards the door. "Now go. It's not polite to make him wait _too_ long. Knock 'im dead . . ."

"Wait, Lily!" Ariel rushed forward in her tiger-striped pajamas, holding out a glittering silver necklace. "It's charmed. You're guaranteed to meet the love of your life."

"Now who's going so—"

"My sister Alice was wearing it when she met Frank," Ariel insisted, fastening the clasp around Lily's graceful neck. "There. You look perfect. Now shoo, and don't come back until it's good and late, do you understand me?"

Lily turned and was half-way down the steps before Polly called her back again. "You know, darling," she said, biting her lip gently. "I didn't _really _want you to kill him."

Lily laughed and skipped all the way to the lake. Being sixteen was, indeed, very sweet.

A tall, dark, and (she hoped) handsome figure was waiting for her at the edge of the lake. Suddenly very nervous, Lily walked cautiously along the bank, allowing the gentle waves to lap at her shoes for a good ten minutes before she reached him. She cleared her throat delicately.

Slowly, two pale hands reached for the hood. Her heart leapt into her throat. At last, someone who really understood romance. Someone who was kind and intelligent and in every way the opposite of James Potter in every way. She gasped, placed her hand over her heart, and took a step backwards.

There, standing in front of her, highlighted by the light of the moon, was the grotesque silhouette of Severus Snape. Lily's look quickly changed from one of horror to one of absolute loathing. "You—What a cruel trick! Why would you--?" she couldn't finish her sentence. Before he could part his thin, pale lips, she let out a sob and was running rapidly back towards the castle.

Blinded by her tears, she didn't catch even the slightest glimpse of the small group standing by the doorway. "So," Sirius Black emptied a pouch of golden coins into the hands of a handsome Ravenclaw fifth-year. "You're sure that ten galleons is enough to compensate for the loss of the love of your life?"

The boy grinned. "Plenty! I didn't even write those stupid letters, anyway. My sister did them for me."

"Atta boy!" Sirius patted him on the back and the boy turned and ran all the way back to his house common room. After all, it was very late for a fifteen-year-old to be wandering around when there were ghosts about. Sniggering, Sirius looked up to see his best friend, standing before him in a black cloak with a few flesh-colored pieces of material and a long, greasy-looking nose in his hands.

"I'd say this went well," Remus said, watching the retreating back of Lily's secret admirer.

James, chewing on his lower lip, was silent. "She seemed kind-of upset," he said slowly. "I think we hurt her feelings."

"Not us," Sirius assured her. "Snape. There's no love lost there."

"True . . ." James said slowly, but he didn't sound so certain. He remained silent the remainder of the night, staring up at the ceiling of the dorm until everyone else had already gone down for breakfast. He rose, dressed slowly, and slouched downstairs into the common room, expecting to find it empty.

To his surprise, Lily sat framed by the fireplace, dressed exactly as she had been the night before, except her makeup was gone and her hair fell messily around her slender shoulders. "Snape," she croaked hoarsely.

"What?"

"It was Snape. Snape was the one sending me all of those roses. Snape was the one writing those things. He . . ." her voice broke on a sob.

James's heart wrenched and for the first time, he thought he had a glimpse of what it felt like to be Lily Evans.


	5. Part Two: Round Up Yon Virgin

"If the rose puzzled its mind over the question how it grew, it would not have been the miracle that it is."

- J. B. Yeats

**Part Two**

**Round (Up) Yon Virgin**

The space between here and there had turned into a battle field. Missiles flew over my head from one wall to the other, resulting in loud moans and squeals. Weapons were piled on either side of me. This was war.

A mattress creaked. Someone I thought I had known draped one hand over the side of the bed. A feminine giggle made me look up. I wished I hadn't.


	6. Chapter Four

**Part Two--Round (Up) Yon Virgin**

**Chapter Four**

**Disclaimer:** December 4, and I think I heard my mother saying something about James . . . Or perhaps she said we were having chicken for dinner. I wasn't really paying attention.

**Author's Note:** That's right. Not only have I kept my vow to update daily, not only did I update twice yesterday, but I am also updating twice today. Be amazed. Yup, this is to shut Alana up about the snogging. It's not very important to the plot, but I'm hoping it will keep her happy for a while. Enjoy.

It was cold: The kind of cold that upset even the wind. She blew bitterly through the grounds, stinging the eyes and noses of the students on the grounds. She stole their breath and drove them back indoors. No white puffs rose from the merry mouths of those on leisure. No snow dared to tempt her icy wrath.

It was cold: The only kind of weather that didn't upset the redhead sitting by the lake. The wind didn't sting her cheeks, but rather painted them a lively flush and made her eyes of glass. The frozen surface of the lake sparked brightly, like a thousand likes on Christmas trees, but it could not compare to the sparkle of her copper hair, spilling romantically down her back and pooling around her waist.

A boy with black hair—tall and strong and handsome—moved to her side and she looked up at him as though in a dream. He reached for her hand and, surprisingly, she let him, pulling him down onto the hard, frozen ground beside her. They laughed together, and when they were done, James Potter found himself with his head in the lap of Lily Evans. His only regret was that Sirius was not around to see.

"I'm sorry he hurt you," he breathed hoarsely, reaching up to tenderly caress her cheek. She tilted her head, resting her soft chin in the palm of his callused hand, and let out a purring sigh. He ran his tongue over his wind-chapped lips, eyes fixed on hers.

"I'm not," she said, suddenly, as her fingers traced over his wrist and down his arm, sending shivers through him like electrical current. "I wouldn't be here right now if he hadn't."

James watched as her eyelashes fluttered. She opened her emerald eyes half-way and staring at those half-lidded gems, he had the sudden idea that she wouldn't smack him if he kissed her. It was a shocking and almost radical idea, but he was just that kind of bloke.

James's strong, shaking hand reached around behind her head. Her hair was wonderfully soft, he decided as he combed his fingers through it. Her lips parted in a noise he didn't quite recognize. His heart leapt into his throat and began to pound in his ears as something else ate away at the lining of his stomach.

Love, as it turned out, was terrible for the health.

He pressed lightly on the back of her head. She didn't object. Slowly, her head inched closer to his. Before she had made much progress, he was sitting up, pressing his lips roughly against hers. There was an oddly choked gasp from deep in Lily's throat. Her eyes opened wide.

In addition, love was not nearly as easy as it looked in his mother's novels.

It was strange, then, that he felt her leaning back just as his tongue met with hers. Strange, too, that he found so comfortable a position with one arm on one side of her and his body on the other. They curled together like Yin and Yang, joined at the mouth for all eternity.

Or, at least until she came up for air.

Her cheeks were flushed two shades darker than her hair and somehow he didn't think it was because of an increase in the wind. She no longer felt the ice of the grass prodding into her back. She couldn't even feel her own fingertips. For James's part, he felt only the broad grin on his face.

"Can I . . . ?"

She nodded, shyly returning his smile. "Go ahead."

Their lips collided in a flash of color. He saw stars on the insides of his eyelids every time he closed them, but that was rarely for long. He had read everything on this moment, but he couldn't seem to keep his eyes closed anyway. He was kissing Lily Evans. That was the problem, he was sure of it. Sure, you close your eyes when you kiss those ordinary girls, but only so that you can _pretend they're Lily_.

When you actually happen to be snogging _the_ Lily Evans, there was no need for pretending.

Lily was a goddess, which, by default, made him a God.

"Oh, James," she moaned softly. "James . . . James . . . James . . . JAMES . . . JAMES!"

James Potter jolted away in his bed. "My lady love?"

"Ah ha!" Sirius Black threw himself across the bed of his best mate. "I knew it! I told you, Moony! 'Oh, come off it, Sirius,'" he mimicked in a high-pitched voice. "'He's just having a good dream.' Nope! Nope! I knew it! Prongs doesn't have good dreams. How was it, mate?"

"Brilliant," James was nearly breathless.

"So you've got a plan on how to win her over, then?"

"Yeah, no. Not a clue."


End file.
